dragonchaser
by farfromdaylight
Summary: Six months after Omega's ascension, Shera Highwind is brutally murdered and Cid is kidnapped. There's only one person on the planet with a chance of finding him - but will Vincent be able to prevent Cid from being changed forever? Part one of a series.
1. news from civilization

**Notes:** Some quick notes before we get started. This is a rewrite of a fic I wrote in 2007 or 2008 of the same name, and is the first part of a series. I wrote and completed it as part of Nanowrimo 2013, and will be posting a few chapters a week as I edit it.

If you happened to read the original (which was posted on this account, albeit under a different name), this story will seem similar, but has substantial changes.

This is a Cid/Vincent fic, but the pairing in question doesn't come into play until the sequel, and even then not until a very long ways in. I wrote this series to focus on two things that I rarely see in this pairing: substantial development to establish the two of them getting together, and a focus on Cid's issues rather than Vincent's. With that in mind, please be patient.

**chapter one:** news from civilization.

It wasn't that Vincent had been avoiding people on purpose. The truth was that he'd come to enjoy the company of quite a few people in the world: his former allies in AVALANCHE, mostly, and even a few others. It was just that he couldn't trust himself when he kept in one place for too long, and so more often than not he found his feet leading him away with the briefest of excuses. His friends wished he stayed longer and more often, of course, but they understood. It worked for both of them.

Eventually, though, even Vincent found the need to check back in on the world. He needed the time to himself, to collect his thoughts and find enough inner stability to ensure that a visit to a more populated area would go without incident, but he needed to see others as well. It wasn't his fault that he preferred the visits to be fewer and farther between than most of his friends would like.

Nanaki, however, always welcomed him. Since returning to Cosmo Canyon, the guardian had buried himself in the Study of Planet Life, and Vincent was hoping to spend some time in the same pursuit. It had never particularly appealed to him before, but after everything that had happened in his fight with Deepground, it was only prudent. Omega wouldn't wake again any time soon, but it would, one day.

And he would be there to greet it.

* * *

Cosmo Canyon had grown since Meteorfall. Nowhere had truly prospered in the wake of the disaster, but as one of the few places without any dependencies on mako energy to begin with, they had weathered the energy crisis better than most. Refugees had come to the canyon in waves, first in search of shelter, then in hopes of a cure for the stigma. Now, they simply came to find a better life.

Dust billowed up in his wake as Vincent climbed the long stair to the city, looking around with some interest at the developments. The stilted houses along the canyon walls were still there, but there were far more than he remembered, even extending down along the stair to the canyon below as if filling every available space. True, the canyon itself could support many, but most of the village's resources were pooled here in the heart, close to the Cosmo Candle. He gave it a passing glance as he continued his way through the village, gliding between the bustling merchant stalls. It was louder than he remembered. With people came commerce, of course, and he could see handmade wares scattered throughout the shops that had sprung up along the path.

The people were happy. It was a good sight, after so much suffering.

Vincent ducked into one of the caverns to get his bearings, frowning behind his cowl as he tried to remember just where the inn was. It had been a long while since he'd stayed in Cosmo Canyon, and though he had every intention of exploring more fully, the past few days' journey had left him unkempt and in need of a good wash. He caught sight of a sign pointing back where he'd come, and when he looked closer found that he'd passed the inn entirely.

Vincent huffed to himself and turned back, keeping to the edges of the crowd and lingering in the shadows. He'd made an art form of going without notice, no matter how bright his cloak and how noticeable his features. The less people saw, the less they bothered him. So intent was he on reaching his destination without interruption that it wasn't until he was almost on top of him that he noticed Nanaki.

"Vincent," the beast said warmly. He had been lying next to the Cosmo Candle but rose at the sight of the gunman. "It has been too long, old friend. Welcome to Cosmo Canyon."

"Nanaki." Vincent gave him a nod and glanced at the inn just past him. Nanaki would want to talk, of course, and though he enjoyed Nanaki's company more than most, Vincent was too weary to engage in a long conversation immediately.

To his relief (and surprise), Nanaki seemed to notice his discomfort, and let out a chuckle. "Please, feel free to get settled." His single eye wandered over Vincent's form, taking in the matted cloak, the dirtied leather. "We have time. You can find me up in the planetarium, when you wish to."

With that, Nanaki padded off, his large paws barely making any sound over the dirt. Vincent hummed in amusement behind his cloak. Time, indeed.

He and Nanaki had all the time in the world.

* * *

The stars were painted across the sky by the time Vincent climbed to the top of the village. The cloak still lay across his shoulders, but his steps were looser now that he was away from the people milling down below. Nanaki was the only soul up here, and Vincent found it calming in a way he rarely felt in cities. Cosmo Canyon had been a good choice.

Nanaki greeted him at the door, and before long the two of them were settled in Bugenhagen's old study, Vincent in a comfortable armchair and Nanaki curled up nearby the fire. The canyon nights were cold, he said, and though his fur was thick enough to endure it the fire make it much more pleasant.

Vincent was known for speaking little, but around Nanaki the words came easier, if still not high in number. He complimented the canyon, which Nanaki was happy to talk about at great length. Cosmo Canyon had indeed blossomed since Meteorfall, and though Nanaki himself had not been there to see it all, he had settled down into his role as guardian with great vigor now that he had returned. Nothing, he claimed, would harm the canyon so long as he stood guardian, and Vincent believed it. If anything, it was a welcome sight. So much of the world had lost hope, but if they could capture even a flicker of Cosmo Canyon's bright flame, perhaps it would spread.

When he asked after AVALANCHE, however, Nanaki paused just a few seconds too long. His tail twitched back and forth, a nervous tic Vincent had noticed back during their journey, and he frowned as Nanaki began to speak.

"Cloud and Tifa are well," he said. "As are the children. Barret has been in Edge, these past few months, but is back on the road. Reeve is busy, as always, and Yuffie makes it her job to keep him on his toes when she is not in Wutai." Nanaki paused, tail swishing again. "It is my understanding that they miss you, but understand why you did not stay."

"Hn." That suited Vincent. Reeve had asked him to continue to help the WRO, after the Deepground incident, but Vincent hadn't even considered the offer before declining. The last thing he could do after everything he'd gone through was be around anyone. Time wandering was the only thing that had cleared his head... Vincent frowned. Nanaki had missed someone. "What of Cid?"

For a long moment, Nanaki didn't answer. His eye looked to the hearth, the flames dancing across his sight. "What happened to your phone, Vincent?"

Vincent blinked. That seemed a non sequitur to him. "A monster got the better of it not long after I left. I saw no pressing need to replace it." He would be back when he was back, after all. Someone calling him wouldn't change that.

Nanaki lowered his head onto his paws. "I see. That... would explain it."

He still wouldn't meet Vincent's gaze. The gunman's eyes narrowed, and something twisted low in his stomach. "Nanaki."

"We couldn't reach you. We tried, of course, but no one knew where you were."

"What of Cid?" Vincent asked again, trying to ignore the regret sweeping through him at the thought that he'd missed something, simply because he'd been without a phone—

"Not Cid. Shera." Nanaki let out a low, keening noise — a sound of regret, Vincent realized — and finally turned to him. "She was murdered four months ago."

Four months. Vincent did the math in his head; it would have been only a week or two since he'd lost contact with the rest of the world. He swore beneath his breath, his right hand closing into a tight fist.

He had not known Shera Highwind well, but she was someone who didn't shy away from the very sight of him, and that alone made her someone he tolerated. At first he had never understood how she and Cid got along, much less how they had ended up marrying, but Cid seemed happy and that was enough for him. Shera had always asked after him, always offered to let him stay when he was in town, and Vincent had appreciated it in ways he had never been able to voice. So few approached him with such open hospitality that it had left a mark on him.

He closed his eyes for a long moment. Her soul, he prayed, would join with the Lifestream and find peace there. It was all he could hope for.

"What happened?" he asked in soft tones, looking down at Nanaki.

The beast gave another sorrowful sound. "Someone broke into the house. They used— they used one of Cid's spears. There was so much— so much blood—"

Vincent reached out, cupping his hand behind Nanaki's jaw, and the beast leaned into the touch gratefully, letting Vincent's gloved fingers stroke through his fur. Nanaki had seen it, Vincent realized. Probably smelled it. It was hard sometimes to remember just how young Nanaki was, no matter how many years he had walked the Planet, and Vincent had just made him relive a memory he had clearly been trying to bury.

Nanaki feared loss, Vincent knew, more than their other companions. He had a long lifespan and would surely see all but Vincent himself grow old and return to the Planet, but never had he expected such a loss to come so soon. No matter how much he steeled himself for the eventuality, the shock must have been devastating.

He said nothing, but he let his fingers trace through the mane along Nanaki's neck, knowing from experience that it soothed him. It was funny, he thought, how he wouldn't know how to soothe another human, but with Nanaki, it came easily. Perhaps it was the beast in him.

It took some time before Nanaki could speak again. Vincent pretended not to hear the roughness in his voice. "Cid was... Cid," Nanaki said, and Vincent understood that all too well. He could imagine how Cid had reacted easily enough. For all his bluster, the times that the pilot got truly angry were a sight he would not wish on anyone. "He and Cloud searched Rocket Town for clues. Reeve helped, as well. They could not find anything. Cid continued looking for weeks, but the trail was cold. He has returned to flying the _Shera_ for the WRO and now lives aboard the ship."

"Mm." Vincent wasn't surprised. Cid was happiest in the air, and Rocket Town would hold nothing but pain for him from now on. As much as he hated the thought, he could commiserate with the pilot. "As is his way."

He had only just arrived, but Vincent knew he couldn't stay in Cosmo Canyon after this. For better or for worse, he considered Cid Highwind a friend, and he had already failed him for missing the past few months. He owed him his support, even if he wasn't sure just what Cid would want. "I will go see him," he said.

Nanaki's tail twitched, and Vincent watched the flame flicker with a slight furrow in his brow. The beast said nothing for a long moment, as if debating whether to speak at all. "You think otherwise."

"...I am not sure," Nanaki began.

Vincent waited.

"He was here delivering cargo, not two weeks ago. Outwardly, he appeared the same as he has been since— since it happened. But..." His tail swished again. "Vincent, I'm not sure..."

"Speak. I will listen."

Nanaki nodded against his knee. "There is something off about him. Something that does not smell like Cid Highwind, but wears his clothes. I know Cid's scent. This man was different." He lowered his gaze. "I cannot explain it."

Vincent frowned. Someone else might have dismissed it out of hand, perhaps, or simply attributed it to a man deep into grieving and a friend worried. But Nanaki rarely said something unless he thought there was a chance of it. He rubbed behind Nanaki's ear idly. "What _did_ you smell?"

"...Mako."

No wonder Nanaki was worried. Cid bore no mako scent and never had; Vincent had been around him long enough to be sure of that. His frown dipped lower. "You're sure it was him? Not the cargo?"

"The shipment came from Wutai. Just food and supplies."

No chance, then. Vincent let a quiet sigh escape his lips and let his claw bump against Nanaki's head, inviting the beast to lean into it if he wanted. Occasionally, Nanaki would want to be scratched, and during their journey they had found that Vincent's claw did the job better than anyone's hands ever could. Vincent had been a colder man then, lost in the weight of his sins, but Nanaki had never sought anything but the simple comfort. It had taken time for the camaraderie to form between them, but he was glad it had held in the years since.

The beast accepted his touch, turning to let Vincent drag his claw along his back. "Have you told anyone else?"

Nanaki huffed, giving Vincent a one-eyed look over his shoulder. "Would you?"

Vincent gave him a half-smile. He could see the look on Cloud's face already. No, this was something to be dealt with quietly. Vincent had lapsed enough in not being there for his friends; it was time to return the favors they'd given him. "Then I will investigate."

"...Thank you," Nanaki said. "I hope it is nothing."

"As do I, Nanaki." Vincent turned his gaze to the stars spread across the heavens and the faint glow of Omega's remains. "As do I."

**Note:** Vincent and Nanaki's relationship is based on the story "Case of Nanaki" from the _On the Way to a Smile_ novella. A translation is available at thelifestream dot net.


	2. a farce unraveled

**chapter two:** a farce unraveled.

Vincent was in luck: the _Shera_ was currently in Gongaga resupplying and offering WRO aid to the citizens. Though Gongaga hadn't relied on pure mako energy since the reactor explosion, they'd still been connected to the Shinra power grid, and when the other reactors went offline they'd lost what electricity they had. In the years since Meteorfall, they'd had to start from scratch with coal from Corel just to get by as they worked to implement alternate sources of energy, and relied on the WRO to ship materials.

Gongaga was a good week's journey from Cosmo Canyon on foot, given that one had to pass through the soggy marshes and ford the river, but for a man with wings, the trip took a fraction of the time.

Vincent made sure to land clear of any prying eyes, setting down in the thick jungle surrounding the town and letting his wings dissipate. He had spent much of the past few months getting used to the fact that he could use them at all, and though he was sure that no unenhanced humans could see his ethereal wings, he wasn't about to deal with questions about just how he'd managed to drop out of the sky.

He wouldn't call Chaos a gift, but Vincent had become used to the abilities granted him, and he could accept that some came in handy. He still preferred to walk, when he had the time to spare, as flying drained his energy far more quickly than anything else, but he doubted he would have caught up with the _Shera_ otherwise. And if Nanaki's suspicions were correct, he would need to call on some of his other abilities to determine just what was going on with Cid.

Vincent hadn't lied when he told Lucrecia that Chaos had returned to the Planet. He simply hadn't told her the whole truth. He had stopped the world from ending once, but the Planet wasn't through with him yet. Chaos's consciousness was gone, but his powers had remained.

One day, Vincent hoped, Lucrecia would forgive him. But he knew that even she would be long gone when the day came for him to carry out his duty.

* * *

The _Shera_'s makeshift landing pad was full of activity, with WRO engineers, scientists, and soldiers alike hurrying from one place to the next to complete their duties. Vincent kept out of their way as best he could and made his way to the airship's entrance, glancing idly at the WRO soldier on guard duty.

"Oh- Mr. Valentine, sir! What brings you here?"

Vincent frowned behind his cloak at the address; he had never gotten used to the idea of people paying him any particular respects. He supposed it was better than the diminutives his friends mangled his name into. "Where is the captain?"

"Captain Highwind is aboard the ship, sir! Ah, but we're due to leave in just half an hour-"

Vincent shook his head; it didn't matter to him where he ended up. He moved onto the airship, letting memory guide him around. It was no wonder why this ship was Cid's pride and joy. The WRO's fleet had grown, especially with Cid at the helm, but the _Shera_ was by far the most advanced. It still amazed Vincent sometimes just how far technology had come in his long sleep.

He checked the bridge first, but was told the captain had been working through most of the day and had retired to his room not long ago. Vincent knew the danger of interrupting Cid during a nap - he'd been on the receiving end on a couple of those tirades himself - but made his way to the captain's quarters anyway, trying to ignore the way the WRO operatives kept chattering in his wake. Everywhere he went seemed to inspire gossip.

At last he reached Cid's door and knocked, metal knuckles clanging loud in the hall. Vincent didn't need superior hearing to pick up a steady stream of curses within, but remained impassive as he waited for Cid to pull himself together and approach.

"Who the he- _Vincent?_" Cid stared at the man outside his door, nearly letting the cigarette fall out of his mouth. "The fuck're you doin' here?"

Cid didn't look well, and that was putting it in the kindest terms Vincent had. From the circles beneath his eyes, it looked as if he'd barely slept in the past week, maybe longer, and he looked filthy enough not to be bathing regularly either. The stench of nicotine and alcohol was so thick that Vincent wasn't sure if it came from Cid, the room, or both. Probably both. He smelled of grease too, and engine oil and tea and all the things that were so uniquely _Cid_, just as it was supposed to be, but the scent of mako was so strong he could almost taste it. It was masked by everything else, but it was there.

"Can I come in?" he said, calm.

Cid looked at him. Huffed. "The shit's all this. Showin' up outta nowhere when I'm nappin'. Should have you thrown off the ship."

Vincent took that as a yes and slipped past him. Cid muttered another curse under his breath. The room looked more lived in than it had ever been before, as if Cid had moved half his house into one room and given up on the rest. Bits of half-broken machinery were strewn on one half of the room, piles of clothes and other familiarities on the rest, as if to give Cid some comfort and pretend this was his cozy home back on the ground. A few of Cid's old spears were stacked in the corner, with the Venus Gospel mounted on the wall by the window. There was a half-empty carton of cigarettes on the coffee table, with a stack of flavored teas set beside it.

It all looked right, for a man grieving and burying himself in his work, trying to forget. For a moment, Vincent could even believe it. He looked back to Cid and met his eyes, and there was no mako glow. He looked human. Sounded human.

But he felt wrong.

"Where the fuck you been?" Cid demanded. "Fuckin' _hell_, Valentine, d'ya have any idea how many times we tried to call ya? Too fuckin' busy angstin', weren'tcha?" Cid snorted and gave Vincent a hard look. "You wanna tell me the fuck you're doin' here?"

"I heard about Shera," Vincent said. "I'm sorry."

"Yeah. Lotta fuckin' good that does. We had you, maybe we coulda found the guy who _did_ it." Cid puffed on his cigarette and turned away. "Got a lotta nerve comin' here."

Vincent said nothing. He could understand why Nanaki had been so hesitant. Without his senses, he wouldn't have picked up on anything. Cid was just as he should be. Somehow, that made it all the stranger.

He concentrated, and sent out a tendril of chaotic energy through the room. There was some form of mako here, but perhaps it wasn't Cid himself - something he carried on his person, or something on the _Shera_. But everything he sensed pointed straight to Cid himself. His lips dipped into a frown.

"You're not even _listenin'_ to me! Goddammit, Valentine, give me one fuckin' reason why I shouldn't kick your ass right off this-"

"Cid," Vincent interrupted, and it was enough to get the pilot's eyes to meet his. It was more dangerous, but Vincent couldn't let this continue without getting an idea of what was truly going on here. He sent out a larger pulse of chaotic energy, tapping deeper into his abilities to look deep into Cid.

One day, Vincent knew, the world would come to an end, and he would cleanse the Planet of all life as Chaos and guide it to Omega, who would collect it and guide it away from the Planet to a new destiny elsewhere in the universe. As distant as that day was, Vincent still retained those abilities, and he could tap into them to see the inherent chaotic force in each soul. Though he rarely used it, he had control over _all_ chaotic forces, and could at any time bid them to leave their host and come join with him, the master of Chaos itself. In doing so, however, he would keep those souls from joining with the Lifestream, and as such, Vincent preferred to restrict himself to take only the chaotic souls bound to monsters. The end of the world was, he hoped, a long way off.

He could use this ability to simply look and not take, however, and he sent his chaotic pulse through the ship, immediately picking up on all of the lifeforms on board - all the workers down in the cargo bay, unloading the ship; the pilots getting ready to prepare the ship for takeoff; the engineers checking over the engines one last time - but nothing in front of him. He sent out another pulse, stronger, picking up the people on the ground, the soldiers, the scientists -

"_Valentine!_" Cid shoved him in the shoulder, clearly trying to get Vincent to pay attention to him, and Vincent's claw came up, squeezing tight around Cid's forearm. "_Shit_- get the fuck off me, you-"

"What are you?" Vincent hissed, glaring at Cid with slit red eyes.

"I'm gonna be real fuckin' pissed if you don't get yer damn claw outta my arm is what I-"

"I said, _what are you?_" Vincent pushed him forward, releasing Cid's forearm only to pin him to the wall with his clawed hand spread across his chest. There was nothing there. _Nothing_. Cid had no lifeforce, no chaotic energy, _nothing_ - he was a shadow, a lie, a- _what?_

"The hell are you _talkin'_ about? Get off me! Hey! This ain't funny, Valentine!" Cid wriggled against his grip, hands closing around Vincent's gauntlet to try and force him off, but Vincent held fast, digging the tips of his claws into Cid's chest. "Ow, goddammit! Keep the kinky shit to yourself, fucker! I ain't into this!"

"Shut up." He didn't have time for this. Vincent channeled his energy, focusing not on sending out a wide-range pulse like before but instead on sending one directly into the man, searching for the spell that had made this _thing_ before him. Dark tendrils of energy surrounded his claw, ripping at Cid's flesh, and Vincent pressed harder, gritting his teeth as he tore the spell to pieces. Cid's curses turned to screams as Vincent's claw passed into his chest, but instead of blood, all that seeped out was the green goop of mako. The chaotic energy devoured his flesh, unmaking him from limb to limb as Vincent's talons closed around the solid orb at the center of Cid's chest.

He pulled it free and let the body sink to the ground, his chaotic force making quick work of the rest of it. Vincent opened his claw and stared down at the yellow materia, not needing to send more than a slight pulse to identify it.

A manufactured Clone materia.


	3. dissolution of reality

**chapter three:** dissolution of reality.

A manufactured materia.

Materia hadn't been manufactured since the Shin-Ra Electric Power Company had ruled the world in fact if not in name. It had been commonplace then, available in shops around the globe, the powers of the ancients made easy for the average person to use. The spells were weaker than those held in natural materia, of course, but if they were formed with the right ingredients and knowledge, the difference was negligible.

Since Meteorfall, materia use had grown scarce, even shunned against in some parts of the world. It had been part of the Geostigma scare, at first; materia did nothing to stop the spread, and people believed that the powers of the ancients had abandoned them. So afraid was anyone of angering the planet any further than materia were kept hidden away, locked in chests like the one Cloud kept for AVALANCHE's cache.

This was different. New. Vincent wasn't sure how old; he was hardly all-powerful, and could only get a vague sense of what had formed the materia. But it had been made for a purpose, and Vincent was going to find out what.

Maybe it would have been smarter to interrogate it, but he'd reacted purely on instinct. The clone had felt _wrong_, like something that never should have walked upon the Planet to begin with, and his chaotic side had called out for it to be torn apart before he could think to stop. Not that he would've. That man - that _thing_ hadn't been Cid. It had simply worn his form. And he needed to know why.

He'd kept the loss of the "captain" to himself; there was no need to worry the crew. They were happy enough to get him in contact with Reeve, who had agreed to meet him at the _Shera_'s destination in Junon. The WRO's headquarters had been repaired since the Deepground incident, Vincent knew, but he had heard that they were establishing a larger presence in Junon.

So long as Reeve had someone there who could make sense of this materia, he didn't care where they met.

* * *

"...Vincent, if this is true-"

"It's true."

Reeve lowered his face into his hands. Reeve hadn't changed much since he'd last seen him. A couple of extra worry lines, maybe. The amount of work he put into the WRO was astronomical, and Vincent had a feeling that Reeve didn't leave much time for anything else. Not that he really had a place to comment.

"But... if that was never Cid..." Reeve stared down at the materia on his desk. Vincent had to admit it looked innocent enough just sitting there. "Then what- Vincent, what could have happened to him? Where _is_ he?"

"I don't know."

And that was what had occupied his thoughts since he'd left Gongaga. It was a safe bet to say that Cid had been taken when Shera was killed, if not soon afterwards, and replaced with the clone. Shera could have even been an unfortunate bystander of an altercation between Cid and whoever had decided to take him.

But Cid was the last man Vincent would think to have enemies. True, the man was brash and hardly agreeable at the best of times, but anyone who knew Cid knew he was a good man. He had offered everyone he knew from his days in Shinra a place in the WRO, whether it was in his own ship or another in the fleet. He argued, but held no grudges. Even if he had wronged someone, Vincent couldn't imagine anyone going to these lengths. Not against _Cid._

Reeve raked a hand back through his hair. He was starting to go gray at his temples, Vincent noticed. "And the materia. That's not the kind of technology Shinra ever had. We've gone through the Deepground files, Hojo's work, everything we could scrape off the Worldwide Network." He saw the way Vincent's eyes narrowed and shook his head. "I'm sure. We've been combing through it for months, with Shelke's help. If Shinra could make an army of cloned warriors, they would have. We both know that."

"Hn." Reeve had a point. Vincent didn't like it any more. "Then who?"

"And _why?_ If we'd known- we could have been looking for him months ago, instead of-"

"Reeve." Vincent gave a jerk of his head. "There's nothing we can do about it. I'll find him. I need you to look into this materia."

"You'll look-?" Reeve was surprised, and for a moment Vincent wasn't sure why; it made perfect sense to him. He was the only one who had seen the difference; whoever had made this materia clearly had technology past what the WRO could detect. Without any leads, it would be useless to send any more than him. It was Turk thinking, and even if he hadn't worn a suit in over thirty years Vincent's training had come in handy more than once.

Thankfully, Reeve seemed to grasp the situation, and gave a single nod. "Yes. That makes the most sense right now. Our science team is here in Junon right now; I'll get them working on it right away." He picked up the materia, careful not to channel any energy into it lest he set it off. "We're dealing with some fluctuations in the power grid, so it may take a few days, but I'll call you as soon as I have something."

Vincent nodded and turned to leave, then stopped midstride. His lips dipped in a frown. "...Where can I buy a phone?"

* * *

Phone technology had apparently taken many great leaps since Vincent's long sleep. He'd been surprised to learn that not only could he retrieve his old number but his old contact list as well, for a minimal fee. Gil was the one thing Vincent had rarely worried about since he started to wander the world; people were willing to pay for valuable monster remains, and he killed far more than most. Monsters themselves tended to carry gil from poor travellers they'd slain, and every now and then, Vincent would happen across a pile of gil someone had simply left lying around. He couldn't even call it luck, it happened so often.

That said, 400 gil for a room at the Junon Inn was still highway robbery.

He had travelled too far to argue the price, though, and settled comfortably into his room. If nothing else, he wanted privacy to make this call.

It only rang twice before being picked up. "It's been some time," Veld said, and even over the phone Vincent found comfort in hearing his old partner's voice. "I don't suppose this is a social call."

"I need information on anyone working on manufacturing materia."

"You never did ask for much, Valentine." Veld sighed, but Vincent knew he'd have that long-suffering smile on his face. "I'm in Kalm. How long will it take you to get here?"

Vincent paused for a moment. He'd need to hunt on the way, but it was a straight shot to fly there. "Two days."

"I'll send you the address. And don't think you're getting out of having coffee. I _am_ retired."

Vincent smiled to himself. "You drive a hard bargain. I'll see you."

* * *

The crew of the _Shera_ was in a predicament. Though no one liked to talk about it openly, they all knew the state their captain was in, and even if he didn't like being pitied, they worried for him. But it was unlike him to spend quite so much time in his cabin - he needed the sleep, of course, he'd run himself ragged, but surely he would have to emerge _sometime_.

The question was, then, whether or not to bother what might be one of the few chances of rest he'd allowed himself in the past few months so they could get going and risk his wrath. Cid's ire was nothing short of legendary, and in the past few months he had been something to behold. They knew it would pass, in time (or so they hoped, for the sake of their jobs), but it made working under him a terrifying affair.

They had just reached the decision to draw straws on who would risk their livelihood to investigate the captain's quarters when a booming voice interrupted them. "Hey! What're all of ya doin' standin' around? Don't ya know we've got a route to fly here?"

"Captain!" The acting pilot darted away from the controls. "We were just, uh, waiting for you!"

"Well get a move on! We ain't got all day!"

The crew scrambled back to their stations, relieved the captain had pulled himself together. No one had seen him come in from the back of the bridge, having just boarded the ship.

The new Cid clapped his hands together, taking his position at the helm. "Alright! Where we headin'?"


	4. over a cup of coffee

**chapter four:** over a cup of coffee.

Vincent hadn't been back to Kalm since that night all those months ago. He hadn't been avoiding it, exactly, he would never admit to _avoiding_ things, his travels simply hadn't taken him in that direction. He'd simply spent more time in the southern half of the world. True, there was a part of him that feared just what a state the city was in after the Deepground attack, but he needn't have bothered. The WRO had done a masterful job of rebuilding, from the outer wall to the cobblestone streets, and if he hadn't been in the thick of it, Vincent might not have known there was an attack at all.

There were signs, though, slight as they were. A couple of dirty children sitting in the alleyway, passerby hurrying past as if they hadn't seen them. Tattered awnings that looked as if bodies had fallen through them - or worse. Vincent felt something snap beneath his boot and looked down to see a spent shell casing, probably kicked around the streets for months.

And no matter how peaceful the city seemed now, Vincent knew those who had survived the attack would never forget it.

He hummed to himself. They had rebuilt, and started to move on. It was high time he did the same.

* * *

The coffeeshop Veld had picked out was tucked down a sidestreet Vincent never would have noticed without directions. The murmur of the city faded behind him as he moved down the cobblestone path with careful, quiet steps. Even so, Veld caught his eye even before he emerged from the shadows, nodding to the seat opposite him. Vincent hummed to himself. Veld's senses hadn't dulled.

It was a small café right up against the city wall, with an outdoor patio fitting only a few tables. Vincent nodded to Veld and took the seat indicated, lips quirking behind his cloak at the positioning. The table was tucked in a corner, and Veld had his back against one wall and had directed Vincent against the other, the same way they used to back in the day.

He had seen Veld just once before, not long after the incident with the Sephiroth remnants. Though Vincent had preferred to keep to himself following Meteorfall, he had grudgingly accepted that a few contacts would not go amiss, especially since he now had a phone. While he hadn't cared when Veld had woken him from his slumber in Nibelheim, he had since taken the time to investigate just what the Turks had been up to in his long absence. What he'd found had been surprising, to say the least. No wonder Rufus's Turks had been so different from the organization he remembered.

Still, Veld owed him for the assistance Vincent had given in Nibelheim, and he'd reminded his old partner of the favor when they'd met last. It was time to call it in.

Veld, for his part, was shaking his head with a quiet chuckle. "You still haven't aged a day. I don't think I'll ever get used to it." The years had gotten to Veld, and there were more lines than Vincent remembered, and far more gray streaked through his hair.

"I'm older than you," Vincent reminded him. It was a moot point, these days, but he had a good few months on Veld.

"Ah, yes. Perhaps you've finally grown into your personality. You always did act like a stick in the mud." Veld's eyes twinkled at him over his coffee as he raised it to his lips. Vincent realized he had a cup of his own sitting before him. "Go on. You're not leaving until you drink it all."

"Poison doesn't work on me." Vincent's tone was mild. It was an old joke. One of their first shared missions had involved assassinating one of Shinra's political enemies at a dinner party, and the only way they'd been able to get away with it was by poisoning him at the table. In hindsight, it was a wonder they'd managed to dispose of the body.

"No, but I hope good company will. I would like to see more of you."

"Hn." Vincent hid his own smile against the rim of his cup. Vincent wasn't the only one with thirty years of regrets - Veld's Turk career had cost him dearly while Vincent slept - but Vincent almost felt as young as he looked again, sitting here with him. Like the way they used to go out after a mission, in the old days.

He didn't really miss being a Turk as much as he missed being _human_, but he did miss this. "I'll try."

"That's all I ask."

They sat in companionable silence, sipping their coffee. Vincent could see why Veld had picked this place. The server had not bothered them once, and there were few other customers. As far as Turk meetups went, this location was ideal. He'd have to keep it in mind the next time he was in Kalm. "Are you working?" Vincent asked, curious. Veld had claimed to be retired, but he knew the man would never allow himself to keep out of things entirely.

"I try not to. Tseng has things well in hand. The Turks are not what they used to be." Veld looked up the sky, and Vincent followed his gaze, eyes tracing Omega's remains. Even dormant, Chaos felt compelled towards it, felt the need to consume. "Rufus Shinra is not his father. He would have been different, with or without Meteor. I am grateful this is the side of him the world knows."

Vincent made a noise of agreement; that he knew well enough. He had no love lost on the former president, but no matter his tactics, Rufus had changed his ways. The world would never let Shinra regain its power, but it could still become a force for good.

"He does come and see me, now and then. He considers it a gesture of goodwill. It's all politics, but he's trying." Veld sighed. "Many of my Turks report to him now, but he knows that if he crosses them but once, he will lose them. It is enough."

"Mm." Vincent's lips curled. "I'm surprised he hasn't tried to recruit me."

"He did ask if I knew where you were. I told him he had a better chance of hiring that blond friend of yours."

Vincent did chuckle then, imagining the look on Cloud's face at a proposition from Rufus Shinra. He would have to see Veld more often, he thought. He did care for his friends in AVALANCHE, but it was only around Veld that he could really remember what it was like to be human, before he'd become - well, _this_.

But before that, he had a duty. Vincent drained the rest of his coffee and set the cup aside, giving Veld an expectant nod. "What do you have?"

This time, Veld didn't protest. He knew how Vincent was; the fact that he'd gotten him to lighten up even for a little while was a win in and of itself. "Given the short notice, the only contacts I have are on this continent. There might be someone working on materia down in Mideel, but I couldn't get a Turk down there in time." Vincent shook his head, indicating that was fine. Veld set down a stack of folders. "Four groups. Two in Edge, two in Junon. Some have ties to Shinra, some are independent."

Vincent hummed in his throat and took the folders. "Anything I should know?"

"Nothing stands out. Some of them are just researching alternate energy sources, trying to convert materia into energy without resorting to mako. Others just want to see if we can still use magic without harnessing the Lifestream. Nothing to make them come up on our radar." Veld paused, waiting for Vincent to fill him in. He'd gotten the information without needing a reason; that was simply the Turk way. If he was going to keep helping Vincent, though, he'd have to be in the loop.

Vincent said nothing for a moment, glancing over the files. Veld was right, nothing jumped out at him, but without anything else to go on these researchers were his best bet. "Cid Highwind is missing," he said quietly. "His wife was murdered, and he was replaced with a Clone materia."

"A _clo_-" Veld cut himself off; the place was secure, but that was a bit much even for him. Vincent knew the ramifications were running through his head. None were better at infiltration at the Turks, but even they couldn't impersonate someone the way the Cid clone had. The idea that someone could use a _materia_ for that was, put simply, horrifying. "Understood. I'll have my Turks look into it."

"Keep it discreet. His disappearance is not common knowledge." Vincent didn't want to think about the kind of technology the kidnapper might have at their disposal, but he didn't want to tip them off that he was looking for Cid and risk him being moved. Reeve had agreed to contact their friends in AVALANCHE with the news, but agreed that making it public had a chance of alerting the kidnapper.

In hindsight, dissolving the spell had been hasty, but he had no regrets about turning the materia over to Reeve for study. Anything the WRO could tell him about where it came from could help him find Cid.

"You have my word." Veld let out the breath he'd been holding. "And good luck, Valentine. I have a feeling you'll need it."

Vincent gathered the folders under his arm and gave Veld a grim smile as he rose from the table. "So do I."


	5. a hero's welcome

**chapter five:** a hero's welcome.

For once, there were clear skies in Edge. Even with the mako reactors long off, and the waste from the Shinra Building mostly disposed of, the Midgar region was almost always covered in a dreary haze. As if no matter how much the residents worked to rebuild, they could never come out from under the plate's shadow.

Vincent hadn't been to Edge since he'd left Tifa's six months prior, after he'd returned to them following the Deepground incident. Like Kalm, he hadn't been avoiding it as much as he simply didn't want to be around so many people - and Edge only grew more and more as the days went on. The WRO had set up a permanent garrison here after the incident, Vincent had heard, and with those jobs came more and more settlers.

It was good to see. The people of Edge had suffered far more than anyone else on the planet after Meteorfall, but they had a way of pulling through. Like Kalm, Vincent knew they would be fine.

The one thing he didn't like was how drab the city was. Edge had always been so gray, and even though people were starting to introduce plants back into the area they were slow to take. Even with all his skill at keeping hidden, even Vincent couldn't hide how much his cloak stood out among the crowd.

There were whispers as he passed, but Vincent tuned them out as best he could. His hearing was far better than the average person's, thanks to the mako, but he had no interest in hearing what people were saying about him now. If he actually cared what anyone said about his appearance, he wouldn't wear what he did.

He shifted his pack on his shoulder, glancing up at the nearest street sign. It had been long enough since he had been in Edge that he couldn't quite remember his way around, and he frowned behind his cloak as he tried to recall just which way he'd have to take to get to the first address Veld had given him. He had opted to walk from Kalm rather than fly; it wasn't a long journey, and he didn't want to waste the energy should he run into trouble later. But the hour was growing late, and if he got lost, he'd have to wait until the next morning to speak to someone.

"Hey, mister!"

Vincent ignored the child calling out to him and turned to the right, deciding that any choice was better than none. To his irritation, the child followed him, trailing after him like an unwelcome shadow. "Hey! Come back here!"

He expected the child to give up once he realized Vincent wasn't going to pay him any heed, but he was due for another surprise. The child caught up and ran in front of him, stopping Vincent in his tracks. "It _is_ you! You're the guy who took down all those Deepground soldiers!"

It was the last thing he wanted to deal with, and Vincent tensed, feeling the eyes of all the nearby passerby gravitate towards him. Edge been hit hard, but he had managed to get some civilians to safety; apparently this had been one of them. "Yes," he said finally, red eyes staring down at the child.

"Wow! How'd you beat them all? What's your name? Where've you been? How come you look so beat up?" Vincent raised an eyebrow at that last; sure he'd had to fight some monsters on his way to Edge, but his cloak didn't look _that_ bad, and his leathers had been in worse shape. In any case, he didn't have time for this, and he moved to brush past the kid. "Hey! Where are you going?"

"I'm busy."

"But you just _got_ here."

There were more people looking now, and Vincent felt an uncomfortable wave of energy beneath their stares, trying to tune out their murmurs. They weren't hostile, just curious, and he didn't begrudge them that, but he never knew what to do when he was put in the spotlight. "Excuse me," he said, and took another step, trying to continue down the road.

"Do you have somewhere to stay?" someone asked from the crowd- a woman. Vincent turned, brow furrowed.

"-I'll be fine."

"Hey, how about something to eat?" A man clapped him on the back, and Vincent found himself being steered towards another street, the crowd parting to let him through. He could break free of the grip without trouble, but he was so surprised that he let the man direct him. "You head down that way a couple blocks 'til you see the bar, tell 'em Marcus sent you, okay? You deserve it."

"I don't need anything-"

"Don't even think about it! She'll set you up on the house. Everybody knows it's 'cause of you those Deepground freaks are gone." There was a murmur from the crowd, and Vincent marveled at them. He had never expected any gratitude for what he'd done; he had been the only one who could help, and he'd done the best he could under the circumstances. The fact that he'd made it through at all was still something of a miracle, regeneration or no.

Still, he could tell this crowd wasn't going to take no for an answer. "All right," he said, and headed down the street, casting another curious glance back at the people. What a strange way to enter a city.

* * *

In hindsight, he probably should have expected the bar in question to be Tifa's; there were other establishments in Edge by now, but none were as popular as hers. Vincent almost considered passing by entirely and heading to the inn, but he didn't much want a repeat of earlier; he had had enough crowds for one day. At Tifa's, at least, he would have a room to himself.

It was just past six when he entered, and the bar was packed; hardly anyone noticed Vincent as he slipped inside. He slinked past the customers, darting between crowded tables and the staff Tifa had brought on to deal with the growing evening crowd, and caught sight of the woman herself standing behind the counter.

"Vincent!" She smiled at him with so much warmth that he couldn't remember the last time he'd seen such light in one person. Things were going well, he could tell. Tifa could hide her emotions behind smiles like no one else, but when she was truly happy, she glowed. It was far better than seeing her hide her troubles for the sake of her family. "This is a surprise. It's so good to see you again."

"Likewise." Vincent meant it; though he didn't often show it, he liked Tifa. She gave him the space he wanted, but always opened her home to him when he showed up unannounced. That, and she never pried. It was a winning combination in Vincent's eyes. He cast a glance back out at the bar, seeing more than a few eyes turned back his way. "I'll leave you to your work."

Tifa laughed "The spare bedroom's all yours. I'll send Cloud up when he gets home, okay?"

Vincent nodded and slipped into the back, heading silently up the stairs. He made it two feet before a solid weight attached itself to his midsection.

"Vincent!" Marlene grinned up at him. "Cloud didn't say you were coming!"

"He didn't know." Vincent squeezed Marlene's shoulder with his right hand; he didn't mind her, either, but he never quite knew what to do with her. "Hello, Marlene."

Mercifully, she unwrapped her arms from around him and tugged him towards the spare bedroom, chattering all the while - how long was he staying? Why hadn't he visited in so long? Did he know how much trouble he was in for staying away?

All Vincent could do was shake his head and follow after her. He had never quite understood what Marlene saw in him, or why she got so excited when he came to visit. Children were a mystery.

* * *

Night had fallen over Edge by the time Vincent heard Cloud's heavy boots on the stairs. Though the walls weren't thick, he had managed to tune out most of the noise from the bar up here, and had buried himself in Veld's files, losing himself in methods he hadn't used in over thirty years. If he hadn't been looking for this information, none of these contacts would have stood out to him, either; they didn't appear to be doing anything untoward. He could only hope they would have something for him.

"Enter," Vincent called out when he heard Cloud stop before the door, hand no doubt raised to knock. The swordsman chuckled as he pushed the door open.

"Weird having someone else do that to me," he said. "Good to see you, Vincent."

"Mm." Vincent closed the file he'd been looking through. He wasn't sure if Reeve had told Cloud and Tifa about the situation yet, but either way he had no intention of bringing Cloud into this. If he needed the help, he knew Cloud wouldn't hesitate to come to his aid, but for now it wasn't necessary.

He looked over the man. Like Tifa, Cloud did seem to be happier than he'd ever seen the troubled young man before. Vincent didn't much care to pry into their personal affairs, but he had a feeling that at least some of that happiness came from each other. He gave Cloud a nod; it was good to see him well, after everything he had suffered through.

"You made quite an entrance," Cloud said, leaning against the desk opposite the bed. Vincent quirked an eyebrow, curious, and Cloud gave him a half-smile. "You wouldn't believe how many of Tifa's customers told me they'd seen the 'hero of the Deepground battle' come in."

Vincent scowled behind his cowl, though he knew it wasn't hiding anything. "Tch. They weren't the first."

"Oh yeah?" Cloud's eyebrows raised in amusement. "Somebody offer to buy you a drink? Place to stay, maybe?"

"...How did you know?"

"Because you're not the only one." Cloud's lips curled. "There's only so many times we can save the world without people noticing. They're grateful, Vincent. It's not a bad thing. It just means they have someone to thank."

"...Mm." Vincent considered that. He really didn't care one way or the other if people thanked him, but he knew they didn't mean it unkindly. The attention could be a little much, but he was used to feeling that way. This wasn't different. "I suppose."

Cloud shook his head with a faint smile; apparently he wasn't surprised by how Vincent took it. Then again, for all Cloud had changed, Vincent himself rarely did. "We'll catch up later; I need to help Tifa close up. How long are you staying?"

Vincent lifted his shoulder in a shrug. Reeve hadn't told them yet, then. Vincent wasn't about to offer the information himself. He had never been the right person for things like that. "A few days. Perhaps more. I can't say."

"You're welcome here. No matter how long."

Cloud nodded and withdrew. Vincent hummed to himself. It was nice to simply be trusted without question. He didn't consider anywhere in the world to be his home, but it was nice to feel like he belonged somewhere.


	6. materiaworks

**chapter six**: materiaworks.

If the residents of Edge looked up the next morning, they might have noticed a red-cloaked figure flitting from one building to the next, like some large bird who couldn't quite find a roost it liked. But few looked up, and fewer still caught sight of that wisp of crimson against the gray sky, no matter how much it stood out.

Vincent never had understood why so few people looked up, but it made it much easier to travel around the city — and with far fewer interruptions.

Though Edge was a city built out of necessity, and thus a result of random sprawl, it was largely split in two halves, following the division between Old Midgar's Sectors 3 and 4. That line formed the main road of the city, all the way out into the wastes, and no matter how far the city spread out from there, everything pointed back to it. Shinra's monument to Meteor — now rebuilt after its untimely demise at the claws of Bahamut SIN — formed something of a central spoke.

MateriaWorks, the first group Vincent was investigating, was located along one of those outer spokes, on one of the distant edges of the city. It wasn't hidden by any stretch — a large sign displayed the name of the organization, and there had been a few markers with directions along the way, once he'd dropped back down to the street. Still, the area was one of the emptier parts of Edge, and it wasn't until Vincent got closer to the building that he realized why.

The sheer number of wires going into the building was far more than any of those surrounding it; they had to be drawing several times the power allotment than any other building on the block. It was doubtful anyone else could afford to live in the area, or that any business could do anything with such a high power drain nearby. Vincent supposed it figured, considering the nature of the work, but he was surprised they were so open about it.

The door was unlocked, and Vincent let his hand rest over the butt of his gun as he slipped inside, just in case. The thrum of magic sent off his senses immediately — it was like a current in the very air, and he had to put a lid on his own magic with a sharp hiss just to keep from setting something off by accident. He rarely needed to use materia anymore, now that he could utilize the Protomateria's abilities; the nice thing about _being_ the carrier of an ancient materia was that its magic was innate to him. He was glad he'd taken as much time as he had to learn how to control it.

When he could look around, he found that the reception desk was empty, as was the waiting room. He could hear voices somewhere else in the building, but they were too faint to make out from this distance. Vincent frowned and shifted his grip on his gun. For a company that left its door wide open, this seemed strange—

"Ah! Who— who are you?!"

Vincent turned to see a man come out of a door on the other side of the room; he'd dismissed it as a closet, but apparently it was the bathroom. He let his hand slide off his gun. For once, his paranoia had gotten the best of him. "How'd you get in here?" the man demanded.

"The door was open," Vincent said.

"Oh. Oh— uh. Right." The man turned to look at it, then back at Vincent; he had a nametag that read _Myles_. "Then that means...?"

Vincent raised an eyebrow.

"You're... here for the tour?" Myles finished. His expression twitched like he was trying to force a smile, but it looked more like a grimace.

Well, it was better than the alternative. "Yes."

"That's, uh, that's great! Let me just, uh, call the guide—" Vincent had a feeling that was the last thing he was doing, but anything was better than dealing with a man who could barely look at him. Honestly, he didn't think he looked that terrifying. He had made sure his clothes were clean before leaving Tifa's, and he'd kept the claw beneath his cloak as much as he could. He sighed internally. Investigations were easier when all he had was a simple blue suit and a gun.

"—yeah, uh, okay. I'll keep him here." Myles hung up and turned to Vincent. "She'll be right here." He swallowed. Vincent pretended not to notice the man was edging away from him.

It was only a few minutes before a woman emerged from the back. She was dark-skinned, her hair done up in a tight bun at the base of her skull, and the look she turned on Myles was nothing sure of _furious_. "I will deal with _you_ later," she said, and looked to Vincent, pausing only for the shortest of moments at his appearance. "_You_ can tell your friends at the WRO that we are _working_ here and we are using _exactly_ the supply we got! Not one bit more! You have no right to come in here and tell us to shut down!"

Vincent stared at her. Unfortunately, that only seemed to spur her on. "Two years we've been at this project! _Two years!_ That's longer than you've even _been_ here in Edge! You don't have the right to shut us down and we're not going to take it! We use less and less of your power every _week_ and if you shut us down we're _never_ going to make any progress!"

"I'm not with the WRO," Vincent said, managing to catch her when she paused for breath.

"Bull _shit!_ You're no different than the last bunch they sent! We aren't going to _stand_ for this!"

"Dr. Evans—" Myles tried to cut in.

"Don't you even start with me, Myles! MateriaWorks has not come this far to be shut down!"

"I don't have time for this," Vincent said. He had just got here and he already felt like he was going to get a headache. "I don't care how much power you're using. I just want to know what you're doing."

That gave Evans pause. "What we're— you mean you don't know?"

Vincent levelled a glare at her.

"Dr. Evans, I really don't think he's with the WRO," Myles said, a plaintive note in his voice. It also sounded like he was scared for his life, but Evans didn't seem to catch onto that part of it. Instead, she gave Vincent a suspicious look.

"What are you looking for?"

"Someone recently manufactured a materia. I need to know who."

Vincent had been a Turk long enough to know the shock on Evans's face was genuine. "_No one_ can manufacture materia anymore," she said, and drew herself up with pride. "Much less MateriaWorks. What we do is the opposite."

Vincent folded his arms. "Then show me."

* * *

It never did change with scientists, Vincent thought. They were all the same. When it came down to it, all they wanted to do was outdo each other, no matter what field. Science was a matter of pride, not technological advancement. Vincent bore the proof of that in the form of his immortal body.

Still, Dr. Tamra Evans was no Hojo. Her company, MateriaWorks, had been working on harnessing the power of materia for the greater good, and had already had some success. The biggest crisis facing the world in the wake of Meteorfall had been energy, and though there were already some fixes in place across the world, everyone was working on something that would take the least from the planet and give the greatest returns.

The genius of MateriaWorks was simple: materia itself already held great energy within it. A Bolt spell, for example, could provide significant amounts of power; it just had to be directed properly. The problem was twofold; the average person couldn't use magic, and materia itself was scarce enough that it couldn't solve a global crisis.

What they sought to do, then, was reverse-engineer materia so that it wouldn't require the presence of a human to cast, but instead could be called at the behest of a machine. It was a challenging proposition, and so far, they hadn't made a lot of progress, but they had a small generator powered by a first-level Bolt spell Evans claimed could run for several days at a time.

"Obviously, if we _could_ manufacture materia, that would make it easier," she said. "That's where we used to work, all of us — manufacturing materia for Shinra. But do you know how much mako it takes just to manufacture _one_ materia?" She snorted and patted the tiny generator on the table. "It'd take hundreds of these. Thousands. And it'd wear out just as fast."

"Hn." Vincent could see the point. The research had its uses, to be sure, but without a steady supply of materia, it would only last so long.

"So you tell me." She flipped the generator off and turned to him. "Who's out there _manufacturing_ materia? Where the hell are they getting the power?"

Vincent gave her a flat look. "If I knew that, I wouldn't be standing here."

"No, I know that, I mean— if it's safe to use, do you know what that would mean for us?" There was hope in her eyes now, but to Vincent, too much of it looked like the promise of another scientific breakthrough and the fame that came with it. "If you find them, you have to tell us—"

"We'll see," he cut her off. He didn't want to deal with this. "Don't get your hopes up."

_Scientists_, he thought. _No matter what they're trying to do, they're all the same._

He left without looking back. He had other leads to follow.


	7. broken strings

**chapter seven:** broken strings.

To Vincent's irritation, there was no one at the second address Veld had given him. It was the right place, and according to the locals there were a few scientists who worked there, they were simply out for the day. With both of his leads exhausted and only half the day gone, Vincent had no choice but to return to the Seventh Heaven.

Tifa had always had success with her bar, but she'd kept the same schedule since she'd opened it, no matter how popular it became. Though she had help, she still needed time to herself, and she kept the Seventh Heaven closed until sundown three nights a week so she'd have enough time to care for Marlene and Denzel and to keep everything in working order. The rest of the time, it was full of people, and Vincent knew she didn't give herself much rest aside from the one day a week the bar was closed.

She seemed to like it that way, though. Back after Meteorfall, she'd needed something to do to fill the time, keep her busy. Now, it was a way of life.

Tifa smiled at him from over her shoulder as Vincent slipped inside, setting down the glass she'd been drying off. "Welcome back," she said. "I didn't expect you back this early."

Vincent knew she could tell he was frowning, cloak or no. "Couldn't find what I was looking for."

"Hmm." She turned back to the dishes, setting a stack in the cabinet behind the bar, as Vincent took one of the seats in front of her. He'd learned from experience that he was no good in the kitchen; his claw was useful in battle, but his coordination left something to be desired when it came to handling delicate objects. "So no Cid."

His eyes widened, and Tifa gave him a sad smile. "Reeve called this morning. I... didn't want to believe him at first."

Vincent sighed, letting more of his weight rest against the bar. "I'm sorry."

"Mm." She shook her head; she understood. Vincent had always been a private person; even with a mission like this, it wasn't surprising that he had kept it to himself. She swiped the towel over another glass, setting it beside the sink. "...Were you worried about Cloud?" she asked after a moment.

Vincent's brows furrowed; he hadn't really given thought to it, but now that she'd said it, he could see the reasoning. They all knew just how Cloud felt about his own status as a "clone" of Sephiroth; hearing that there was something out there cloning one of his companions wouldn't bode well for his mental state. Vincent lifted a shoulder in an idle shrug. She could puzzle out the meaning for herself.

Tifa put away the glasses she'd been drying, but instead of picking up the next set, she thumbed the ring she wore. It bore the same wolf emblem Cloud wore on his shoulder pauldron; Vincent knew it held some significance to him. "He's... changed," she said, not meeting his gaze. "For the better. He'll never forget, but..." She let out a quiet sigh and managed to turn a smile back up at Vincent. "I think he can handle it. It'll be okay."

Vincent considered it. Honestly, he trusted Tifa's opinion of Cloud's state more than the man's; Cloud tended to get too lost in his own head, and took on more than he could bear. It was a trait Vincent knew they shared. "Very well."

He slipped off the bar stool, but before he could retire to his borrowed room Tifa called to him. "Thanks, Vincent. It means a lot— to both of us. If there's anything we can do, just ask." Her lips quirked up. "I mean it."

He managed a half-smile in return. "I will."

* * *

Vincent had never entertained his friends' speculation — or betting pools — on whether or not he needed to sleep, but the fact was that he did enjoy napping. For him, it was more like meditating, as he never fully lost consciousness, but it was enough to let his mind go for a while and regain his energy. In any case, it was dusk by the time he emerged from his room, deciding he might as well get something to eat so long as he was in a fully stocked bar.

The bar was full of customers again, but one of Tifa's servers pointed him towards the kitchen, and Vincent helped himself to a modest sandwich, surprised when he found a fresh box of apples by the door. He knew Cloud got the supplies for the bar, but where he'd managed to find something that fresh was beyond him.

"They're from the Chocobo Farm." Vincent looked up to see Cloud himself standing in the door to the kitchen, nodding to the apples. "Got them a couple days ago. They're trying to grow them closer, but nothing's taken yet."

"Hmm." Vincent nicked the apple with his claw and started to peel it, not bothering with a knife for something like this. He preferred not to handle food with his claw when he could help it, but sometimes it was useful, and he'd always hated apple skins. "Can anything grow in the wastes?"

Cloud shrugged. "Doubt it. Doesn't mean Reeve's not trying."

Vincent hummed in amusement; Reeve would try just about anything to get their world back in shape, no matter how impossible it seemed. He felt Cloud's eyes on his claw, the swordsman apparently fascinated by the movement, but he ignored it as he finished making his sandwich one-handed. "Thank you for the food."

Cloud waved it off. "Don't mention it. Tifa'd be mad if you didn't eat."

"Mm."

There was a private dining room in the back of the house for the family; they could still hear the bar, but the sound was muffled enough that even Vincent's enhanced hearing picked up less of it. After a moment, Cloud came in with his own plate and shut the door behind him, cutting off even more of the noise.

"We used the thickest walls we could when we built the place," Cloud explained, and Vincent gave him a grateful nod.

They ate in silence for a few minutes, but Vincent didn't have to look at Cloud to feel the question on the air. "Speak," he said finally; the swordsman's nervous energy was starting to grate on his senses.

"Sorry." Cloud swallowed a bite of his food. "It's— well. Tifa told me. About the materia." His gloved hand closed into a tight fist. "And Cid. I can't— I was with him for _weeks_, Vincent. How did I miss it?"

"Don't blame yourself. It was built to trick all of you."

"But if we'd _known_—"

Vincent shook his head. "Even if you did, you could be in the same position. There is no changing the past, Cloud."

Cloud's eyes — too blue, too bright — widened, and he turned away, biting into his bottom lip. Vincent took another sip of his drink and softened his tone. "I _will_ find him. You can be sure of that."

"Yeah. I know you will." Cloud heaved a sigh and reached for his own drink, downing a long swig of his beer. Mako burned it off quickly, but Vincent could understand the desire all too well. "What do you have?"

"Reeve is studying the materia. For now, I'm looking for anyone who could have made it. There are a few groups in Edge working with materia; I spoke with one today. MateriaWorks." At Cloud's hopeful look, he shook his head. "They had nothing useful."

"Damn. What about materia fusion? Are you looking into that?"

"Materia fusion?" Vincent frowned. He wasn't familiar with the term.

Cloud scratched the back of his head, something he used to do more during their journey to save the planet than he did these days. "It's... something Shinra used to do, to make materia. The regular ranks only got the standard-issue materia, but SOLDIERs needed more advanced spells. So they'd get access to fused materia and could fuse it themselves."

"...I've never heard of it." Materia itself had been extremely rare in Vincent's day; Shinra had been a weapons company in the beginning, and the materia they manufactured was purely for that end. By the time Vincent woke, the materia AVALANCHE used was either the kind Shinra sold to the public or rare materia they found in mako springs.

"Well, only First class SOLDIERs were allowed to do it. They used the old kind of materia for it, back when they only had one spell each. Shinra didn't figure out how to put more than one spell in a materia until— later."

Vincent understood, then. It was rare when Cloud spoke of the things he couldn't, _shouldn't_ know as a result of his memory lapse, but it was important when he did. He had spent enough time trying to sort out which was which, after all. "Then, how does it work?"

"Let me try and remember..." Cloud sat back in his chair, frowning. "I know Zack had a device he carried with him that could fuse materia. You could put in two at a time, and an item — I saw it on the first mission we went on. How did he explain it..." Cloud was quiet for a moment, remembering, and Vincent let him be. For a moment, he wasn't sure if this was the right thing to do; he knew how Cloud felt about this, and he hadn't meant to push him back into memories.

After a moment, however, Cloud let out a laugh and smiled. "Yeah, I remember now. He said something like... you put two in, and whichever materia is stronger, that's what you got. It was the kind of explanation the scientists would have hated him for." He shook his head, chuckling. "But it didn't always happen that way. Sometimes they came out completely different. That's what happened, that time. He put in one of his favorite attack materia and thought it would come back out, but he got a defensive spell instead."

Vincent frowned. "So this Clone materia could have been the result of fusion."

"Yeah, I think it's possible. But the device Zack had — they stopped using them, once they learned how to make multi-spell materia. They wouldn't have worked with it, and no one's used single-spell materia in years."

"Mm." Vincent knew that was true, but something still seemed off to him. The Clone materia had been a command materia, after all; many command materia were multi-spell, but not all. It was possible it had another spell, but he wasn't an expert. He needed Reeve's results, and soon.

"Anyway," Cloud said, and Vincent knew what he was going to say before it was out of his mouth. "About these scientists. I want to help. I can—"

"No," Vincent said, and raised his gloved hand before Cloud could protest. "This is an investigation. Nothing more." He could see Cloud's arguments in his eyes. "_If_ I need help, I will ask. You have my word."

Cloud frowned, but he accepted that, knowing Vincent would take nothing less. "Fine. But keep us in the loop, okay? We're worried about him too."

Vincent nodded. "I will."


End file.
